Hidden Talents

wanted my mother, didn't you?” Caleb said softly. “You wanted Crystal Brooke for yourself.”
    Firebrace flinched as if he had been struck. “She was mine.” He blinked several times. “Your father stole her from me. He seduced her with his money and his fancy family name and his big-time political connections. Promised her the world. And she believed him, the little fool. She believed he would marry her.”
    “And in the end, that's exactly what he planned to do, wasn't it?” Caleb said.
    “She tried to treat me like a friend,” Firebrace said fiercely. “She didn't understand that she belonged to me. She wouldn't allow anyone else to photograph her except me, you know. She trusted me to make her look like a goddess. And I did.” He flung out a hand to indicate the photographs laminated to the walls, ceiling, and floor. “Take a good look. I made Crystal Brooke unforgettably beautiful.”
    “I think she was already beautiful to begin with,” Serenity said crisply. “Furthermore, if you cared so much about her all those years ago, why did you try to blackmail the Ventresses? You must have known how much damage you would create.”
    “It was for her own good,” Firebrace insisted. “I thought that once the Ventresses realized what was going on between her and Gordon, they'd put pressure on the bastard to end the relationship. But it didn't work. Roland Ventress wouldn't even pay for the pictures. So I sent the photos to the editor of the Ventress Valley News . I thought the resulting scandal would force Crystal and Gordon apart.”
    “Instead, my father walked away from his family, his political career, and my grandfather's money,” Caleb said. “He announced he was going to get a divorce and marry Crystal.”
    “Before I could think of another way to stop the marriage, it was too late. Crystal and Ventress had both been killed in that crash.” Firebrace's voice rose to a keening wail. “You were the only one left alive. It wasn't supposed to end that way. As far as I'm concerned, the Ventresses killed Crystal just as surely as if they'd put a gun to her head and pulled the trigger. After everything I did for her, she was gone forever.”
    “Just what did you do for her?” Caleb asked softly. “You certainly weren't the one who took these pictures of her, were you?”
    Firebrace's face contorted with fury. “I was her photographer. I made her a goddess. If she hadn't thrown herself away on that son of a bitch who was your father, she'd have become a brilliant film star.”
    “Not because of your photography,” Caleb said. “This is Ambrose Asterley's work, isn't it?”
    “That's a lie,” Firebrace shouted. “A damned lie.”
    “I don't think so,” Caleb said with growing certainty. “I've seen work that resembles this quite recently. There's something about the play of light on the face, the way she looks into the camera, the otherworldly feeling of the picture. Asterley captured those same elements in the pictures that he took of Serenity.”
    “No,” Firebrace yelled. “These aren't Ambrose's pictures. Ambrose was a failure.”
    “He may have been a commercial failure because of his drinking problem, but the man knew how to handle a camera.” Caleb curved his fingers more tightly around Webster's rock. “And as his business partner, you ripped him off on a regular basis, didn't you? You must have really panicked when he finally gave up and headed for Witt's End. You knew you'd never survive without his talent.”
    “That's not true, damn you,” Firebrace shouted. “You don't understand. I was the one with the talent.” He raised the gun a notch and bared his teeth. He braced himself to pull the trigger.
    Caleb risked a quick glance at Serenity. And in that instant he knew that she had already read his mind. She had one hand wrapped around a tripod.
    With a swift, violent movement, Serenity sent the metal stand crashing into the forest of lamps and cameras. The domino effect took hold. Expensive equipment began to topple to the floor.
    “ My cameras !” Firebrace screamed. He took his gaze off Caleb and instinctively turned toward the scene of the disaster.
    Caleb knew it was the only chance he would get. He pulled Webster's rock out of his pocket and hurled it at Firebrace's head.
    The small missile struck its target with a dull thud. Firebrace jerked, dropped the gun and crumpled to the floor without a sound.
    Several more tripods holding lights and cameras fell